Disclaimer: The characters of
Xena and Gabrielle are the property of Universal Studios and Renaissance Pictures.
No copyright infringement is intended. The characters and events in the Journeys
Series are the creation of the author.

Dr. Petra Vossler pulled her
jeep into one of the parking places reserved for Kurt Vossler, president and
owner of Vossler Engineering Corporation. The five parking spots were not marked
in any way, and except for their location right beside the private elevator
that went to the top floor of The Vossler Building, there was no indication
of rank or privilege. Kurt Vossler was a proud man but not one who felt the
need to flaunt his power. He simply expected people to recognize his achievements
and respect him for them. No one ever parked in these spaces without permission:
it was simply understood.

Petra used her key to activate
the security system, then punched in her access code. The elevator doors slid
open with a soft hiss, and the woman crossed over from the functional cement
world of the workers into the luxury and prestige of the corporate executive.
It did not really suit the no nonsense sort of man her father was, but corporate
image was everything, Petra understood this, but like her father, she wasn't
always comfortable with it. The carpet of the elevator was a deep pile of burgundy,
the walls brass and teak with inlays of mirror. Petra kept her face neutral,
knowing that security cameras and microphones were part of the elevator's security
system.

One minute later, she exited
on the top floor. Olive Bond was there to greet her. "Dr. Vossler, welcome.
Mr. Vossler asked that you wait for him in his private office. He will be there
in five minutes."

"Thank you, Olive. It has
been a while. I hope Jason and the twins, Sam and Mike, are well." Petra
inquired, as they walked across the spacious reception room to the president's
office.

"Yes, the family is fine.
Jason has bought another store, and the boys will be going off to university
this fall. Sam plans to study computer science and Mike is taking a law degree,
and then intends to take a masters in business. I think they are plotting to
form a new company and build it up as they go."

"Good for them. Do they
still build computers on the side?" Petra asked, stopping at the door and
allowing Olive to open it for her.

"Yes, in fact they have
made enough through their business and scholarships to support themselves through
university. But they feel that PCs are old technology now and they want to move
into other areas. They are hard working boys. Jason and I are very proud of
them," Olive concluded, as she stepped into Kurt Vossler's private office,
and held the door for Petra to follow.

Petra Vossler was a beautiful
woman. Petite and vivacious, her hair was the colour of sunlight and her eyes
the deep green of her father's. Like her father too, she was intelligent and
successful. There the comparison ended. Kurt Vossler was tall, aloof and a tough
business competitor. His only child was more like her late mother, friendly,
out-going, and concerned about social issues. Her doctorate, Olive knew, was
in social science.

Olive wondered, not for the first
time, how Kurt Vossler felt about his daughter's choice of career. The Vossler's
were not people who talked about their private lives. She had worked as Vossler's
private administrative assistant for five years now, and yet she could write
what she knew about the family in a single paragraph. On the other hand, Petra
knew enormous amounts about the private lives of the people who worked for Vossler
Engineering, and she suspected that so did Kurt Vossler. Despite the fact that
he was a rather stiff and distant man, he had never forgotten her birthday,
and always wished her a happy anniversary. And the year that Jason had been
in that terrible car accident, Kurt Vossler had cancelled all his meetings,
and taken her and the boys to the hospital and seen to it that Jason got the
very best of care.

There were some who found Kurt
Vossler a very intimidating and arrogant man. He wasn't. He was very loyal to
his employees and took a personal interest in their lives, but he was a proud
and reserved man, and business came first.

Olive asked if Petra would like
coffee and then left, the door closing with a soft click. Petra went and stood
by the window, looking down over the city of Kitchener. Her father had immigrated
here from Germany as a young boy, a number of years after World War II. Like
so many in Europe, he had lost his family in those dark years. His father had
been a soldier killed in the war, and his mother had died during the allied
bombings of Dresden. Kurt had come to Canada, to live with a distant cousin,
and to start a new life.

Kitchener had been settled by
German immigrants in the nineteenth century and at one time had been called
Berlin. The name had been changed, however, during World War 1 and the town
renamed after the famous British general to show loyalty to the Commonwealth.

Petra sighed. Life was all about
new starts. A little over four weeks ago, Kurt Vossler had suffered a mild heart
attack. That information had been kept very quiet. Kurt Vossler was Vossler
Engineering, and the company's stocks would plummet if it was known that the
owner and president was seriously ill.

The door from her father's working
office opened and Petra turned and smiled at the tall, handsome man who stood
there. At sixty-five, Kurt Vossler looked far more fit than many fifty year
olds. But as Petra walked across the room and hugged her father she could see
the greyness to his skin and the stress lines around his eyes that hadn't been
there last year. "Hi Dad. How are you feeling today?"

"Not so bad, Honey. Those
pills I put under my tongue work very well. I just get tired more quickly now,"
Kurt answered honestly. He knew better than to try to keep the truth from his
daughter. She had a way of worming information out of people without them even
knowing it was happening.

The two went over and sat down
in the conversation area overlooking the view of the city. Petra took out her
palm pilot from her shoulder bag.

"Well, you went over the
resumes, who do you think?" Kurt asked settling to business.

"Quin Venizelos," stated
Petra, without hesitation. Kurt grimaced. "Dad, she is the only one with
the brains and drive to fill your shoes. If you name her as your successor the
investors will feel confident in the company. I hope you are not hesitating
because she is gay," Petra finished, a note of warning entering her voice.

Kurt Vossler scowled. "My
own daughter is gay. That is not an issue."

Petra busied herself arranging
the resume data of the regional directors on her palm pilot to avoid looking
at her father. "It could be an issue with the stock holders,"she conceded
grudgingly.

"Business does not care
who, what, or how many, an executive sleeps with as long as the profit growth
is double digit. Sexual morality does not belong in the boardroom," grunted
Vossler bluntly.

"Then what is the issue?"
Petra asked, placing the palm pilot on the table and looking at her father with
those direct, clear eyes.

Vossler frowned. "She is
a strange one. Wild."

"Brilliant,"countered
Petra.

"Unpredictable," added
her father.

"An amazing success rate,"
Petra responded.

Vossler rolled his eyes and looked
annoyed. "I do not like her," he stated flatly.

"I'm not surprised,"laughed
Petra. "She seems to be a lot like you; focussed, a risk taker, determined..."

"She runs our Pacific Rim
division as if it is her own private company. She never asks permission, she
notifies me of what she has done. She is a loose cannon," grumbled Vossler.

"Has she ever made a poor
decision? Have you ever had reason to question her loyalty?" questioned
Petra.

"No,"admitted her father
and then added with a sigh, "The Pacific Rim is our biggest growth sector
by far, but it is a huge market so I cannot completely give the credit to Venizelos."

"Agreed,"conceded Petra.
"But you have to admit, having someone who speaks Mandarin and Cantonese
and who is familiar with the oriental culture is a great advantage. Not to mention
the fact that she speaks three other languages reasonably well, and has degrees
in engineering and business."

Vossler raised an eyebrow. He
enjoyed debating with his daughter. She always came prepared for battle. It
was nice to see, if only for a few minutes, the spunky, impetuous, independent
girl that he had know before Val's accident. "She is more than qualified
and has the experience to back up her studies, so I ask you, Petra, why has
she not formed her own company? Why has she stayed with me?"

"Is that what makes you
hesitate?"probed Petra, resting her chin on the arm she had draped over
the back of her chair.

Vossler sighed and thought about
this. "She is a dark horse. I do not know what makes her tick. Also she
has a temper and no fear...I just don't know, Petra. What about Wilson or Schumann?"

"They are damn good administrators,
but they haven't got the drive or the vision to take Vossler Engineering into
the twenty-first century. Venizelos has," Petra stated confidently.

For a few minutes, Vossler sat
staring out the window, his quick mind weighing all the factors.

"I trust your judgement,
but I am not willing to hand this company to someone I hardly know.

She has always worked in the
Far East. She shows up for our stock and policy meetings like a damn typhoon,
gets what she wants, and disappears back to her own half of the world. I don't
understand the woman at all, and I don't think she is a bit like me!"complained
Vossler.

Petra tried not to smile. "We
could send out some feelers. See if we could pick up somebody good from another
company," Petra suggested. "But that could take some time."

Kurt Vossler nodded. "We'll
do that as a back up measure. In the meantime, I want you to go out to China
and get to know Quin Venizelos. Then we'll decide."

"Dad, I do have my own career,"sighed
Petra.

"It's summer. You teachers
don't work in the summer,"her father responded naively.

"I'm a professor and I do
research in the summer and teachers ..."

Vossler waved a hand to stop
her favourite tirade about how hard teachers work and how little the public
appreciates their efforts. "You will go?"he asked.

Normally, Petra would have argued
that her own life and studies were too important to simply drop and leave at
a moment's notice. She knew, however, that her father was worried about finding
a successor and stress was definitely not good for him at this stage of his
recovery. Petra shook her head at her stubborn father and smiled. "Yes,
I'll go, but you owe me big for this one!"

A week later, Quin Venizelos
stood outside the Customs arrival gate for first class passengers. Outwardly,
she was an island of calm in a sea of noise and activity. Inwardly, she was
seething with anger. Thirty thousand metric tonnes of cement would be poured
in the next few weeks and instead of being there to supervise, she was babysitting
the boss's daughter.

When she had got Kurt Vossler's
email, she had considered rebelling and telling him to go to hell. Then common
sense had prevailed. Normally, Vossler gave her a pretty free hand in running
the Pacific Rim division. He set the goals and she made sure that they met them.
So for Vossler to send his daughter out and ask Quin to give her a tour of China,
there had to be a good reason.

Quin knew that Kurt Vossler had
suffered a mild heart attack over a month ago. Quin knew a good deal about the
Vosslers and Vossler Engineering. She made it her business to know, hiring people
to provide her with inside information. She did not see this as spying. It happened
all the time in the corporate world; information was power.

Quin worked on the other side
of the world from the company's headquarters. As a woman and stranger, she could
easily be left out of the old boys' loop. She made sure that never happened
by always having the information before anyone else. The other division heads
had to come to her to find out what was going on, and that was the way Quin
wanted it.

So she had emailed Vossler that
she would be honoured to show his daughter China. It might be a waste of time
but it never hurt to have the president and owner owing you a favour. If Vossler
was in seriously bad shape, Petra Vossler would be the next owner. It was an
ideal time to show the woman what she could do for the company and establish
a working relationship with the her.

Quin considered what she knew
about Petra Vossler. She was the only child of Kurt Vossler and Sophie Mueller.
Kurt had married late to a woman much younger than himself. In Petra's eighteenth
year, Sophie had died of cancer. Kurt had never remarried, nor was he known
to play the field. When a companion was needed for an event, he tended to bring
his daughter.

Petra Vossler was twenty-nine
and had a doctorate in sociology. She had written a book on the formation and
structure of immigrant communities within North American society that was well
received by the academic community. She was gay and had been in one long term
relationship. Her partner had died in a car accident three years ago and Petra
had not dated since. Like her father, Petra was a private person and discrete.

There were questions that Quin
hoped to get answers to. Petra had worked in various positions in the company
from when she was a young teen, yet she did not hold a current position with
the company but taught at Waterloo University. She did sometimes draw a salary
from the company as an occasional employee. Quin knew this because she had hacked
into the company's accounting system. What she didn't know was what Petra did
for the company. That worried her.

Petra waited for her luggage
to arrive with the other five first class passengers. She was looking forward
to meeting Quin Venizelos at long last. The woman was a legend. Her father,
Petra knew, had been a Greek sailor who had married a Canadian missionary working
in China. Her parents had both died in a typhoon and Quin had been raised by
her Chinese godparents in Toronto's China town. She had excelled at school,
both in sports and academics, and had gone through university on scholarships,
one of them provided by the Vossler company. During her summers, she had worked
for Vossler and had taken a junior administration position with them on graduating
with her engineering degree. Five years later, she headed their Far East division
and was in charge of their largest contract, the designing and building of the
dam at Mao Ping.

Kurt Vossler was right. Quin
Venizelos was a power house that had taken a successful Canadian company and
made it a world contender. That Venizelos had remained with the company was
a mystery, one that Petra intended to solve.

An employee placed her suitcase
next to her, and declining any further assistance, Petra wheeled her suitcase
and laptop through the doorway into the arrival lobby of the new Hong Kong airport.
She picked out Venizelos right away. She was tall, fit and strikingly beautiful,
with strong classic features. Petra had seen photos of her, but in real life
there was a vibrant energy about the woman that turned heads. Her presence seemed
to demand respect and when the blue eyes turned and targeted Petra's, the force
almost made her miss a step. Petra understood now why her father was very hesitant
about handing any more power over to this woman until they knew her better.

"Ms. Petra Vossler?"the
tall woman asked, coming up to stand in front of Petra. Petra took a step to
the side so that she would not be forced to look up at the woman. She was very
careful not to step back. Already the power games had begun.

"Yes," she said and
smiled. "You are Quin. A pleasure to meet you. Please call me Petra,"
Petra responded, forcing, ever so nicely, Quin into a subordinate role.

The taller woman smiled knowingly
and her eyes sparkled with amusement. So Kurt Vossler's daughter had teeth and
could use them, Quin concluded. Round one to the little one. This should be
an interesting few weeks after all. "Here, let me take your suitcase. The
company plane is standing by and we should be in Beijing in two hours. Did you
have a good flight?"

"A long one,"Petra
admitted, "Six and a half hours from Toronto to Anchorage, Alaska and then,
after an hour to refuel, an eleven and a half hour flight to Hong Kong."
She had hoped that they would be spending a night in Hong Kong before taking
another flight on to Beijing. She would have to be careful; jet lag would mean
she was not at her best in duelling with this competitive woman.

"That is about par for the
course. I am sorry to be rushing you, but we are well into the second phase
of construction at the dam and I can not spare too much time away from the site,"
Venizelos explained as if she could read Petra's mind.

"Of course,"Petra stated
neutrally, as she stayed at Venizelos's side while they manoeuverer through
the wide causeways and shopping areas of the impressive new international airport.
A smile curled the corner of Quin's mouth. She liked this woman; she could hold
her own. She was worthy to be Vossler's daughter.

The Dash 8 owned by Vossler Engineering
was basic but functional. While they sat on the runway waiting for the pilot
to do his final check and for their control tower clearance, Quin made coffee,
and offered Petra a tray of delicate sandwiches made from lobster and shrimp
served with watercress.

They talked of the weather and
mutual business acquaintances, keeping the conversation general as they felt
each other out. To Petra's surprise, Quin chose to sit next to her during take
off.

Their arms next to each other,
Petra could feel the heat of Quin's tanned skin. To say the very least, it was
stimulating. The young professor frowned and looked out the window, ignoring
her companion. Quin had a reputation for conquests, in and out of the boardroom
and both men and women. She would have to be on her guard. Besides, Quin was
not Val. No one could replace Val in her life.

The flight to Beijing was uneventful.
Ignored, Quin filled her time with calls to various mangers making sure that
everything was going well. Once on the ground, Quin helped Petra clear Customs
and then led her to the waiting limo that would take them to their hotel. Along
the way, Quin played tour guide.

"There are twelve million
people living in Beijing and another three million commute into the city each
day to work. Bicycle is the best way to get around. There are ten million bikes
in the city."

Petra tried to take in the information
that Quin shot at her, although her mind and body had just about had enough.
She needed time to wash, sleep and adjust to the change in time and location.
"Beijing seems to be experiencing a building boom,"she observed, noting
the skeleton frames of new construction everywhere.

"Yes, there has been a lot
of investment in China, particularly by the Japanese and Americans. The last
ten years has brought about amazing changes. There are fifty MacDonald restaurants
in the city now, catering to the renewed interest in the west."

Petra watched through the window.
Although poverty was evident, there were no beggars and street people that one
found in most cities. The streets were packed with bicycles, Russian made mini
trucks, old buses and people. Dressed neatly in the latest European designs,
the Chinese people went about their busy days. Petra was both impressed and
surprised by the wealth and prosperity that overlaid the city. Poor areas of
ramshackle homes, ancient buildings, modern skyscrapers all mixed together in
an exotic mix that was the new China.

Quin had booked them into a suite
of rooms at the Palace, a five star hotel designed for westerners. Petra tried
not to show her surprise. This was not what she had expected in coming to the
world's largest communist country. The lobby was a spacious terrace that towered
three stories above them around a central open area . A wide, curving staircase
of marble was guarded by two life sized marble horses and a water fall cascaded
from one story to the other, where shops and offices were located. On the main
floor, stores such as Channel, Dior and Hermes offered their wares for sale
and a string quartet played Bach in the corner.

They took the polished brass
elevator up to the top floor to find their luggage already waiting for them
and their tv broadcasting a personal greeting and listing the many services
provided by the hotel. Their suite consisted of a central living and dining
room off which were two dressing rooms, bedrooms and en suite baths. Petra thanked
Quin for escorting her to the hotel and disappeared into her section of the
suite, glad for the opportunity to wash and rest before she had to deal with
Quin Venizelos again.

Quin used the time wisely, working
for a few hours on her laptop and then planning for the days ahead. She had
been right to come. Petra Vossler was a lot more than she seemed. It was clear
that she had a considerable knowledge of the workings of Vossler Engineering
and knew many of the North American administration very well. Quin had been
remiss in not cultivating a friendship with the boss's daughter before this.
She meant to use this golden opportunity to correct that oversight. Petra Vossler
was rich, beautiful, gay, intelligent and available. Quin Venizelos found all
those traits particularly appealing.

Petra woke feeling slightly sick
and very disorientated. It took a few minutes for her brain to sift through
the sensory data and remind her that she was in China after a gruelling twenty-five
hours of non stop travel half way around the world. She rolled over and checked
the clock. She had been asleep for five hours. Reluctantly, she forced her body
out of bed and headed for the shower. Less than an hour later, she was ready
to face the adventure ahead.

Quin was waiting for her with
a smile that radiated far more friendship than was really being offered. Petra
returned the warm greeting but did not take it too seriously. As the only child
of a very rich and successful father, she was used to people attempting to cultivate
her friendship.

They walked from the hotel, taking
some of the back streets to the restaurant that Quin had picked for them. Here
the mixture of the old and new China could not be more obvious. Either old walled
enclosures, made up of a cluster of poor houses lined the street, or rows of
single room shops, grey and cluttered with second-hand merchandise. Quin pointed
out a small hospital built by the colonialists at the turn of the last century,
a monument of Victorian architecture and the place where the bones of "Peking
Man"had been examined before they were crated and placed on a train and
never seen again. The loss of this valuable archaeological evidence of early
man's development, Petra knew, was still a mystery today. At the end of the
block a huge, modern sports complex was being built. China was a land of sharp
contrasts.

They entered a large store and
took an elevator to the second floor where a busy local restaurant was located.
Quin placed her hand on Petra's back and led her over to a small, round table
in a quieter nook. "I thought I would bring you here this first night because
it is typical of the sort of restaurants that the rising middle class of China
frequent,"Quin explained over the general noise and bustle around them.

Petra looked around, taking in
as much detail as she could. She was one of the few Europeans in a dining-room
filled with the dinner crowd. "I have been to other communist countries,
but they are very different from this," Petra observed.

Quin shrugged. "There are
realities within realities in China. The massacre at Tien An Men Square taught
both sides a hard lesson. The students learned that the days of the Red Guard,
the student army that Mao had formed and then lost control of, were over and
that youth was not going to run the country through fear again. The leaders
of China learned that they couldn't prevent change. But face is everything.
Change had to happen without seeming to happen. Communism still very much exists
at an administrative level but in everyday life, free enterprise is the real
reality."

"Have things changed that
much, or has the government simply turned a blind eye to minor infringements
of communist doctrine?" Petra asked, after waiting for Quin to order dinner
in rapid Mandarin.

"Things are changing, they
have to. Once education, housing, and health care were paid for by the government;
now the young people are expected to cover these costs. They can only do so
if they are allowed to make money. Capitalism is everywhere but does not have
official approval. As long as the people do not threaten those in power with
their actions, it will be ignored. They have even recently introduced lotteries
in China."

Petra looked seriously into Quin's
eyes. "And if the leaders do feel threatened by the rapid change, we get
another Tien An Men Square?"

Quin shrugged and sighed. "That
is always a possibility. The Great March and Cultural Revolution changed life
only superficially. Mao and his followers lived in the Forbidden City as the
Emperors before them. Their whims became law just as the Emperors'. In a country
that houses one quarter of the world's population, life is cheap no matter what
people believe on a philosophical level. China is a five thousand year old mediaeval
culture. The communist revolution rolled over the land as just one more tide
of events. The old China went on."

Their meal arrived then and the
conversation ended as Quin explained what each appetizing plate of food placed
on the circular platform in the centre of the table was. It could be spun to
bring the various dishes into reach. The food at this restaurant was typical
of the hot, spicy food of the southern areas of China, Quin explained. It had
been Mao's favourite.

They ate quietly, Quin being
an attentive hostess in the Chinese style. She picked delectable pieces from
the serving plates with her chop sticks and placed them on Petra's plate to
eat. Petra managed her chop sticks with reasonable accuracy if considerable
awkwardness and found herself enjoying the company of the interesting woman
beside her.

The floor show was a mixture
of dance and song, showing off the various costumes, folk dances and music of
each region of China. Quin did not seem interested in the beautiful coloured
silks and the interesting music played in the minor keys favoured by Eastern
composers. Her quiet asides to Petra were about the culture and the symbolism
behind each element.

For her part, Petra was just
as fascinated by her dinner companion as she was by the show. Quin Venizelos
was far more than just a brilliant engineer. Her knowledge about the culture
she lived in was amazing. Petra wondered if this European woman, raised by a
twist of fate in an oriental family, saw herself as European or Chinese. Whatever
her cultural reality, Quin Venizelos was a power-house of talent and drive.
Petra could see more clearly now why her father had concerns. Having Quin as
a regional director of the company was a little like holding a tiger by the
tail. It gave you a lot of power, but if your hand slipped that power could
very easily be turned against you.

After the dinner show, Quin walked
Petra down Gold Street, one of the main shopping areas of Beijing. Again there
was no sign that this was a communist country under strict government control.
The streets were crowded by shoppers and the stores offered the latest in European
designs and technology. Billboards on roof tops advertized Calvin Klein, Nike,
and other popular manufactures mixed in with the rare sign promoting communism
and the worker.

Petra was surprised to see a
total lack of military personnel and only the occasional police office walking
about, armed with just a wooden billy. "I thought there would be a stronger
show of force," Petra thought out loud.

Quin shrugged. "There is
very little street crime in China. The West does not always get the right idea
from sensational media coverage. What happened in Tien An Men Square was brutal.
Hundreds were killed or arrested. One Chinese announcer I know, kept reporting
what she was seeing on Chinese television so that the people would know the
truth even though she knew that one of the dead was her own brother. It was
a brave act but there is another side to the story."

Petra was shocked. "I don't
call that sensational! I call it murder."

"That is because you don't
understand China. What happened that night in Tien An Men Square is nothing
to what happened during the Cultural Revolution. In those days, Mao thought
he could use the energy and focus of the young to bring about cultural change
in the old. But he very soon lost control of the Red Guard. They were not student
heroes, they were punk gangs.

"The present government
saw the student protests as a threat to their authority. They remembered how
the Red Guard had got out of Mao's control. They didn't want that to happen
again. They felt the students had to learn that they were never going to be
a political force again. Their role in the new China is to study, get good jobs
and move China forward."

Petra came to a stop in the crowded
street and looked at Quin in disbelief, while around them a sea of humanity
swirled by. "I can't believe you are defending an act of total brutality!"

"I am not," responded
Quin in surprise. "I am trying to explain how China functions. Let me try
to explain in European terms. The Jesuits, in spreading Christianity to countries
like Japan and China, would argue that the small lie is acceptable in the promotion
of the greater truth. In China, you could say that the single life is expendable
for the greater good."

Petra frowned and shook her head.
"I could never accept that ideology."

Quin smiled knowingly. "It
is not for you to accept or for me. This is China. We are simply observers in
a world that is not ours. Come, we'll go down Silver Street here and it will
take us back to our hotel."

Petra fell into step with the
taller woman beside her but stubbornly refused to let go of the topic.

"Surely, people have a duty
to promote human rights and freedoms."

Quin shrugged. "That is
not my job. Mine is to win contracts and see that the company gets the job done
well, on time, and at a profit." They walked up the steps of The Palace
Hotel and a footman ran forward to hold the door open for them. In silence,
they entered the elevator and headed up to their suite, Petra carefully mulling
over what Quin had said.

"A night cap?" Quin
asked, once they were in their rooms.

"Yes,"agreed Petra,
as she sat down on the leather couch, kicked off her shoes and wrapped her feet
under her. "A Baileys, if they have any." How would her father have
reacted? Certainly he would have agreed that what came first and foremost was
the company's goals. Still, she know that Kurt Vossler would not so totally
reject human rights issues. Is this the sort of person to head Vossler Engineering?
How would she deal with union issues?

Quin poured Petra her drink and
a tomato juice for herself. She hadn't done very well tonight. She should have
stayed clear of China's complex history; westerners just could not understand.
She needed to be more careful. "Your drink," she said, allowing her
fingers to touch Petra's as the glass changed hands. Petra was a very beautiful
woman. Perhaps she could make points on a physical level.

The touch of Quin's finger's
against her own sent tingles of excitement to places that Petra thought dead.
This evening was really testing her current world view. Quin Venizelos had an
animal magnetism about her that made her both charismatic and scary. Petra found
herself wondering what it would be like to sleep with this woman and then quickly
swept the idea from her mind in shock. If you want to know, Petra, ask the
many who have already passed through her bed, she warned herself.

"Why did you pick the field
of sociology?" Quin asked in her straight forward manner. "In this
age of economic wars, the arts and social sciences are not seen as significant
areas of study."

Petra laughed. "Spoken with
a true business bias. Aggressive business practices are important, especially
at a time when developing countries are fighting for a piece of the pie. But
the bottom line is that business is only money. It is not culture and never
will be. To have a decent society, you must foster the arts and social sciences.
The pendulum will swing back to a more humane society as people realize that
money is not a god, just a means to an end."

"Money and power are everything,"stated
Quin as she took a sip of her own drink, letting her eyes drift over Petra's
form.

Quin had emphasized the word
power and the many meanings behind the word had sent a clear message to Petra.
Inwardly, her body squirmed with the seeds of desire. Outwardly, she met Quin's
eyes. "They are false gods. Eventually, Rhodes, Rockefeller, Gates, they
all stopped and realized that the accumulation of wealth was meaningless, it
is what you do with it that is important. We don't remember the rich for their
wealth but for the monuments of art and enlightenment that they leave behind:
The Nobel Prize, Rhodes scholarships, the Carnegie libraries, the Rockefeller
Institute. Things that matter. Culture."

"They only happened because
of money and power," Quin argued, enjoying the intellectual and sexual
tension growing between them.

"Yes, money and power are
important tools. But occasionally society loses track of the fact that that
is all they are, tools. Business is not the be all and end all, it is just one
element in the foundation of a good society. Whenever any one of those elements
is allowed to dominate, then society starts to rot from within."

Quin shrugged. "I grew up
in poverty. A Vossler scholarship and apprenticeship made it possible for me
to escape. I think I'd rather believe in the tools of business than the arts
and social sciences."

"Then you should be thankful
that my father realized that money and power was not enough and invested his
money in scholarships and apprenticeship programs for the young,"countered
Petra.

"It was good business. His
scholarships bought talent and loyalty," Quin responded, claiming a point
in their debate.

"Is that why you stay with
Vossler?"Petra asked, feeling that she was getting behind the strong facade
that was Quin Venizelos.

"Partly," Quin answered
vaguely. "Another drink?"

Petra shook her head and, placing
her glass in the table, she swung her legs down and stood. "No thanks.
I think I'll catch up on some much-needed sleep. Good night, Quin. Thank you
for a most interesting evening."

"Good night, Petra. It has
been a pleasure."

For a long time, Quin sat mulling
over the events and conversation of the evening. It had been a long time since
she had been truly attracted to someone but she had to admit that Petra Vossler
was not only a challenge but an appealing one. Two days and I'll have her
in my bed, she calculated, a confident smile curling her lip before she
sipped from her drink.

Petra found that the sleep she
needed did not come easily. For sometime she lay awake, thinking over the conversation
she had with Quin and wondering what the next few weeks in the woman's company
would be like. She touched her heart with her finger tips. Val, are you
there, Honey? You remember when you made me promise to always leave my heart
open if anything happened to you? I don't think I can do that. When I think
of leaving your memory behind and moving on, tears fill my eyes. You were my
partner and no other could ever come close to the love I feel for you. I love
you, Val.Good night from China.

The following day, Quin took
Petra to Tien An Men Square. They stood in the centre of the vast enclosure
while the tall engineer gave Petra some background information. "This is
the largest square in the world. It can hold over a million people. This monument
we are standing beside is the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, to remember those
who fought gallantly during the war and the Great March. But it has deeper significance
because in the time of Imperial China this spot was believed to be the navel
of the world."

Petra looked around her and then
up at the towering needle of the tomb of the unknown soldier. Standing in the
centre of this vast space, she began to have a feel for the size of the stage
on which the human history of China has been played.

Quin was still very much focussed
on her role as tour guide. "To the right of the square is the museum, to
the left the government buildings. It is difficult to get the scale of these
buildings inside this huge space, but the banquet hall alone inside there can
sit five thousand. Behind us is the mausoleum where Mao's body is kept and ahead
of us is the Gate of Heavenly Peace, the entrance way to the Forbidden City,
which is not a city at all, but the private residence of the Emperors of China."

Petra looked at the long line
of Chinese already waiting to enter the mausoleum to pay their respects to Mao.
"With the changes in leadership and the denouncing of the Gang of Four
is Mao still seen as a hero?

Quin looked across the square
at the quiet line that waited to see the preserved remains of China's communist
revolutionary. "Moa's policies are open to question and criticism today,
but he will always be known as the leader who threw off the shackles of the
west and made China great. He will always be a hero of the people."

Petra nodded. No country could
be comfortable living under the shadow of another's culture. Governments, monuments,
ideologies and trends come and go but the last thing a race gives up is its
culture.

"Are you ready to go see
the Forbidden City?" Quin asked, chaffing at the inactivity.

Petra nodded, then added, "It
is hard to believe that the massacre happened here."

Quin turned and pointed. "The
tank came across the square to where we are standing now. The students tried
to get away by climbing the monument to the Unknown Soldier. The only time you
see soldiers here now, other than ceremonial guards, is on the date of the student
protest. Then the square is closed and there is a heavy military presence here.
The government wants to make sure that another very public display of repression
never happens again."

Quin turned without another word
and started across the square to buy their entrance tickets to the Forbidden
City. Petra took one more look around. She said a silent prayer for those who
had died or were in prison still, and turned to follow. China was a much bigger
concept than Petra had realized.

The Forbidden City, Quin explained,
had been started in 1420 during the Ming Dynasty but the place had not been
finished until 1644. It had nine hundred and ninety-nine rooms, nine being a
number associated with good fortune. The grounds consisted of a series of towering
gates: Great Heavenly Harmony, Middle Harmony, and Heavenly Purity. Each gate
led into areas more private than the one previously. At the far end of the Forbidden
City was the Emperor's private gardens, Heavenly Tranquillity.

It had taken them three hours
to walk through just the main sections of the Forbidden City, marvelling at
the beautifully carved marble and wood, the complex glazes on the vases and
the grand scale of the bronze pots and statues. Quin explained that at one time
the Emperor had thousands of people working on staff. Even the last Emperor
had over seven hundred to care for him.

By the time that they had made
their way to the Garden of Heavenly Tranquillity, Petra was feeling light headed
and kind of sick. The day had been oppressively hot and humid and Petra was
still adjusting to the time change. Quin had stopped to take a swig from her
water bottle when she noted that Petra had gone suddenly pale. She reached out
immediately and offered the shorter woman support. "Hey, are you okay?"

The world circled a few times
and then by sheer willpower Petra brought it back into focus. "Yeah, I'm
okay. Too much heat I think and a bit of jet lag too."

Quin noted that Petra's water
bottle was empty and she offered the sociologist her own. Petra hesitated only
a split second and then gratefully drank from the bottle that Quin had just
used. There was the faintest taste of Quin's lipstick still on the rim of the
bottle. It made Petra remember other times, happier times when she and Val would
go for long walks. Quickly, she blinked back tears.

More concerned than ever now,
Quin took Petra's arm and led her through the shade of the garden to a quiet
bench where they could sit. "I am sorry. I should have been more considerate.
The temperature today is predicted to hit a high of 112 degrees Fahrenheit.
I am so used to the heat that I forgot that you would find it very difficult."
As she talked she poured some water onto a tissue and offered it to Petra to
wipe her face. So far she wasn't making any points in entertaining the boss's
daughter.

"Thanks. One hundred and
twelve! My God! Is this usual?" Petra laughed weakly, trying not to show
how rough she was feeling.

"In the summer, yes. China
is a land of extremes. Listen, you take a little break here. I just need to
go and see about a few things. I'll be right back," Quin suddenly announced
getting up and striding off without waiting for an answer.

Petra watched her go, impressed
by her cool energy despite the stifling heat. Petra sighed; so far she had not
represented Vossler Engineering very well. First, I get into a disagreement
with Quin over human rights and then I nearly faint in to the woman's arms.
Damn. She closed her eyes and leaned back, enjoying the cool breeze through
the Emperor's four hundred year old cedars while she could.

Her mind drifted from one thought
to the next. She had fitted neatly under the crook of Quin's arm. The engineer
had felt muscular and cool. It had been a nice sensation to have physical contact
in her life again. How different Quin was from Val. Short, wiry Val, who was
always laughing and filled with nervous energy.

Petra opened her eyes and sat
up straight. What was she doing, comparing her father's regional manager with
her late partner? She must have a touch of sunstroke to be allowing her mind
to wander down a path like that.

It was a good half hour before
Quin returned and Petra was feeling somewhat better. "I have arranged a
private tea room for us. The tea will cool and refresh you. Are you ready? It
is not a very long walk."

Petra got up immediately and
smiled. "I am fine now,"she stated, although she was still feeling
slightly sick and dizzy. Quin took her arm and set a slower pace over to the
tea house. It was crowded with tourists but Quin and Petra were met by the petite
manager, who led them to a small room open on one side to a shady garden and
lined on the other three walls with sandal wood. The delicate spicy smell was
soothing as was the cool breeze that rustled through the trees.

They sat on the floor beside
a beautiful piece of twisted cedar wood. Large and highly polished, it acted
as a tea table. The heavy knots became mountains and the course grain rivers
over an undulating landscape of wood. Petra made up her mind to try to buy such
a table and ship it back home.

Petra selected tea from one of
the many wicker and bark containers that clustered near by. Each one was woven
with different handles and patterns and were not just functional but works of
art.

"There are hundreds of types
and blends of tea in China. Each one has a specific taste and properties. Huang
Qui, the woman who raised me as her own, insists that I drink a lot of green
tea because it is good for controlling the fire in the liver."

"Not in the western sense
of medicine but in the east they believe that there must be a balance between
the Yin and Yang forces for the body to be healthy. I have way too much Yang
and that makes my liver hot. A hot liver makes you quick tempered." Carefully,
Quin used a delicate bamboo knife to sort the dried leaves on the rice paper
so that the fine grained ones went into the clay tea pot first and the thicker
twigs later. The heavier leaves would prevent the smaller pieces form rising
and flowing into the tea cups when the tea was poured.

"Are you bad tempered?"
Petra asked, as she watched in fascination as Quin took hot water and poured
it from a foot or so above the pot in a circular pattern, first warming the
outside clay and then letting the water run down the sides into the pot. The
teapot sat on a high point of the thick table and the water spilt and splashed
down, swirling along the grains of the wood like a spring thaw to disappear
down a drain cleverly hidden in one corner of the landscape.

"I can be, if I don't drink
my tea,"Quin joked. "I am warming the clay and wetting the dry leaves
to maximize the flavour. The water for a good cup of Chinese tea should be between
80-85 degrees. The water is allowed to flow down the sides to the leaves so
that the leaves are not mixed together or bruised." Quin now poured the
water off the leaves and let it run again as torrents over the table world.
She then added fresh hot water, letting it fall in a gentle circulating stream
first on the outside of the pot and then closer so that the water filled the
pot and overflowed down the sides. This washed away small leaves that might
have been flushed out.

Into tall, narrow clay cups the
shape and size of pill bottles, she poured the brewed tea, moving the flow from
the spout back and forth between the cups so an equal quantity of tea filled
each cup. "Now you take this small cup that looks like a little bowl and
place it upside down on top of the one containing the tea," Quin instructed
and Petra took the two cups and mimicked her instructor's actions.

"You turn it over now so
that the tall cup with the tea in it sits upside down in the smaller cup. Before
you lift the tall cup out to release the tea into the drinking cup, you must
turn the tall cup three times for health, for good fortune and for long life.
Now lift the tall cup out and let the tea drain into your drinking cup."
Petra followed the directions and set the tall cup aside, holding her small,
bowl-shaped drinking cup in her fingers.

"This is called bitter-sweet
tea. When you taste it, it will seem very bitter to you although thirst quenching."
Petra sipped her tea and couldn't help but pull a face, for the tea was indeed
bitter. Quin laughed and settled back to drink her own tea, looking out over
the cool garden beside them. Petra followed suit and was surprised that the
bitter drink did settle her tummy and made her feel less dehydrated.

After a quiet time of reflection,
Quin helped Petra up to leave and handed her back her water bottle, now freshly
filled with cold water. "Try the water," Quin smiled.

Petra did so and gasped in surprise.
The water tasted sweet like pop. "That's the sweet part of bitter-sweet
tea. When you drink water after you have the tea it will taste very sweet. The
effect lasts about twenty minutes."

Petra looked at Quin with interested
eyes. She found herself very attracted to this intelligent woman with the complex
heritage. She wondered what went on behind the perfectly controlled facade.
Surely that hot liver of Quin's must stir up hot passions too. "Thanks,"
was all she voiced of her thoughts.

"If you need to rest, we
could go back to the hotel,"Quin suggested politely.

Petra laughed, her eyes sparkling
with excitement. "No way am I going to wimp out! I'm here to see China!"
The engineer smiled her approval, and they left the Forbidden City to take a
cab to a local restaurant. Quin had planned an afternoon that would be less
demanding than their morning, for the heat of the afternoon was oven hot.

They ate again the spicy soup,
vegetable and meat dishes, sitting in a room with rosewood furniture and rice
paper walls. Then Quin surprised Petra by renting a pedicab to drive them around
some of the back streets of old China. A pedicab was a rickshaw attached to
a bicycle frame. Quin explained that it was not only a pleasant way to travel
on a hot day but it allowed them to get down old, narrow streets where even
the small modern cars could not go.

It was a wonderful experience
and Petra got to see a side of China that she would not have normally seen.
At one point, they stopped to visit a woman who was an old school friend of
Huang Qui, Quin's step-mother. The homes were in pods of six to eight with a
small courtyard in between. The exterior walls were windowless and a thick wood
door in an archway allowed the families to close themselves off from the narrow
street.

The home they visited was small
but clean. It consisted of a tiny kitchen, living-room and bedroom. The furniture
was typical of most European homes. In the bedroom there was a double bed and
wall console and in the living-room was a modern wrap around sofa, television
and a wall air conditioner. Quin explained that the home was owned by the government
and that Wang Li and her husband rented. That was unusual. Most people leased
their land from the government and owned their homes now, but Wang Lu was a
police officer and so he was able to rent.

Wang Li proudly showed off her
home to the European visitor and Quin chatted away happily to her step-mother's
friend in Cantonese, translating the main points of the conversation to Petra
as she did so. "Wang Li tells me that her daughter, Zheng, is working as
a teacher in a nearby pre-school. Would you like to visit there?"

The sociologist was more than
willing to see yet another element of communist China. They climbed into the
pedicab and their driver wheeled them several blocks over to the school compound.
Again the single story school was built in a square and was reached by entering
through sturdy double doors in the wall. The school compound was small and shaded
by two trees. The class rooms were very basic with old but sturdy wood tables
and chairs for the students. It was snack time and each pre-schooler sat quietly
at their seat eating a peach.

Zheng proudly showed off her
classroom. A worn blackboard, a few hand made exercise charts and an old world
map were the main teaching aids. At the back of each classroom was a cloak area
with a toilet and large porcelain sink. "Yes, parents pay to send their
children to the pre-school. The parents must work and schooling is important.
They are happy to pay although it costs them a lot of money," Zheng answered
Petra's questions through Quin's interpretation.

"Ask Zheng how she would
handle a child who was misbehaving?" Petra asked, amazed at how well behaved
and polite the small children were. Zheng looked surprised at the question and
answered Quin after some thought.

Quin smiled and translated for
Petra. "Zheng said that the children are behaved because they know that
their parents would want them to be. She said if she ever had a problem then
she would take the child aside and talk to him or her and tell him or her that
they must act properly."

Petra shook her head in disbelief.
She thought about North American students and how they skipped classes, made
excuses for not doing their work, and blamed the teachers when they didn't get
good marks. They had everything in the way of opportunities and resources and
so many of them simply didn't care. These Chinese children would have to make
do with anything they could find to get the education they so desperately wanted.
It didn't seem fair.

Saying their good byes, they
climbed back into their pedicab and took the shady road that led along the moat
of the Forbidden City. Here the Chinese people relaxed in small groups. Some
played Mahjong or card games, others talked or swam illegally in the moat water,
some found a quiet, shady place and just slept. Sitting shoulder to shoulder
with Quin in the pedicab, Petra felt she was as close as she could possibly
be to seeing the real China.

Quin paid their driver well for
his services and then hailed a cab to take them back to the hotel. "I hope
you will bill my father for any out of pocket expenses, Quin,"Petra stated.

"Of course,"came the
blunt reply, as they headed down the hall to their suite. "I don't think
I quite understand what your role with Vossler Engineering is?" Quin dared
to inquire as she slipped in their security card to unlock the door.

Petra considered evading this
question and then decided to be as honest as she could. "As well as sitting
on the Board of Directors for Vossler Engineering, I am an advisor to the personnel
department and evaluate the work performance of all senior administration."

Quin, half way across the room,
stopped dead in her tracks and span around. "I'm being evaluated?"

"Yes."

"On being a tour guide?"
Quin snapped, her anger close to the surface.

"No, on how you deal with
people and your knowledge of the division you head. Are you still going to make
a play for me?" Petra asked, smiling cheekily.

Quin's jaw dropped and then closed
with a snap. "I'd be a damn fool to do that under the circumstances. Tell
me, would you have let me know I was under the company's scrutiny if I hadn't
asked?"

"Eventually, yes. Neither
my father nor I play dirty with our employees," Petra stated, although
she felt a little uncomfortable in doing so, for Quin had no idea really what
this was all about. She walked past Quin and dropped her bag on a chair. Looking
back at the engineer who was still rooted to the spot she asked, "Drink?"

Quin's eyes snapped up and then
sparkled with challenge. A lazy smile crossed her face and she sat down and
crossed her legs. "Thanks,"she responded dryly. "A tomato juice
and I might make that pass after all."

Petra smirked. "Would that
be tomato juice straight up or would you like it over ice?"

"Oh straight up, I can handle
my fruits," Quin teased.

Petra poured a tomato juice for
Quin and a Coke for herself and carried them over to the sofa. She gave Quin
her drink and then curled up in the other corner. "I am not available."

Blue eyes targeted her own over
her glass. "I didn't know that."

A blush crept up Petra's neck.
"I lived with the same woman for many years. Val died three years ago in
a car accident."

"I'm sorry. Can I ask you
a question?" Quin asked, quietly.

"You can. I don't know if
I will give you an answer though,"Petra responded, looking moodily into
her glass.

"I don't think I have ever
been in love. Infatuated now and again but not really in love. I am not even
sure I know what it means to be in love," Quin mused, draping her arm over
the back of the couch gracefully.

"It is more than an attraction.
It is as though the person is the other half of you. You are simply meant to
be together," Petra stated, tears welling in her eyes.

Quin was amazed at the intensity
of the answer and impressed with Petra's courage in giving it so openly. "Do
you think that a person can only really love once?

"I think so. Val made me
promise that if any thing was to happen to her, that I would leave my heart
open to love. It was as if she knew that she would die young..." Petra
swallowed hard and fought back tears. "I just can't imagine myself ever
wanting to be with anyone else or replacing Val's memory in my life."

Quin nodded, then put her empty
glass down and stood. "Val was a very lucky woman to have found someone
so loyal. I suggest a nap. If you are up to it, we will go to a dinner show
tonight and you can get a taste for China's folk operas."

"I would like that,"
Petra answered, fighting back her emotions. Quin nodded, looked like she was
going to say something, changed her mind and walked out.

The evening went well. They walked
to a nearby hotel and had dinner before watching a Chinese Opera. Petra thought
it was a bit like Gilbert and Sullivan only with a Chinese flair. The costumes
were beautiful, the juggling, acrobatics, and dancing superb and the skits funny.
One was about a woman escaping a nunnery to follower her lover down the river
by boat. The funny interplay between the naive woman and the good-natured but
silly boatman needed no translation but Quin gave a running commentary anyway.
The second musical was a story taken from the famous legends collectively called
"Journey to the West". It was the story about how the immortal Monkey
King escaped the fires of the furnace to defeat the local king.

Later, as they took a cab back
to the hotel, Petra asked about the book. "It is based around a true story
of a Chinese monk who walked to the west, India actually, to bring back Buddhist
scrolls to China. We will be going to the Wild Goose Pagoda that houses those
sacred scrolls. But the book "Journey to the West"is really a series
of myths about the Monkey King who eats some of the fruit in heaven and becomes
immortal. The Monkey King is just always in trouble and in the novel he travels
with the monk to protect him on his quest. There are children's stories about
the Monkey King but the true adult version of "Journey to the West"comes
in three volumes."

"I'd like to read it,"Petra
said.

"I will look for an English
translation,"Quin promised, pleased that Petra Vossler was taking such
an interest in the folklore of China.

They said their good nights a
bit awkwardly. Petra showered and lay for a long time thinking about Val and
the exotic and breathtaking images of Beijing that she had seen today. There
was so much to recall after only one day in this amazing culture. Val would
have loved being here. Why hadn't they travelled more?

Quin worked at her laptop and
then soaked in a hot bath, scraping her body clean with a coarse sea sponge.
In bed, she lay awake for a long time thinking over the day and weighing her
performance. Why was Kurt Vossler having her evaluated? Had she made a mistake?
Was he preparing the way for a successor? Quin was pretty sure it would be Schumann.
He had the experience and although not imaginative, he would show steady and
reliable leadership.

It hardly mattered. When Kurt
Vossler left, so would Quin. She'd had several good offers recently and had
only stayed on because Vossler didn't interfere in the way she ran the Far East
division and because she felt she owed him for giving her a start.

Then there was the conversation
that she'd had with Petra. What would it be like to be loved in that way by
someone? Quin imagined that it would be kind of scary and wonderful all rolled
into one. Was she capable of that kind of profound love? She wasn't sure. What
she did know was that she felt a real disappointment that having an affair with
Petra Vossler was not an option.

She would have to be far more
careful than she had been so far. Quin had the feeling that, no matter how good
her performance level and the yearly profits coming out of her division, Petra
Vossler's report could make or break her. She didn't like that feeling.